You Bet Bob from Cross Crick — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

-~ | = over. 14 more, and lots ov ’em wur strewed around on ther ground onable ter stand up. They kem to ther coffin, and ther first thing they done was to slap on the lid. That made me plum crazy. Did they mean to bury my pard? Did they mistake him for ther late lamented? { tried ter holler, but somehow my voice had gone hoarse and I couldn't make a sound that could be heard above all ther babel that was goin’ on, and they picked that coffin up and sot et on ther platform. Then I heard ’em a-plannin’, “We might as well cut et short now,” one of ’em said. “Yes, that’s so,” said another. “ Poor Gunsight, et was rough on him, et shur was.” “But rougher on them fellers from Cross Crick,” said another. ‘“‘ Wonder if Sal left any life in ’em atall? Let’s pull ‘em out and see ef she did.” “No, let ’em lay thar; we'll ’tend to them later on. They won’t git away till we have planted Gunsight, and then we'll come back hyer and finish ther job Sal bergun.” I was struck with horror. Et was my pard they had in that thar box, as I said! Ther more I tried ter holler ther more my voice got husky, and I was onable ter whusper. It was plum desprut. Wull, they gathered around thar in force, all a-talkin’, and after a time they shouldered ther coffin and started fur ther place ov plantin’. Then I went plum wild. My pard go- in’ ter be buried alive, and me onable ter } do a thing in his behaff! Dear reader, kin ye fetch up a feller feelin’ to ’pre- sheate what I felt? If ye kin, do et. Worst ov all, two of them fellers had taken our hats, and they was at ther head oy ther proseshun, ther chief mourn- ers! Some feller had brought out Lippy Doozberry’s ’corjun, and was makin’ a doleful sound on et, not able to play a bit, and in that fashion they took ther circle ov ther camp. Havin’ done, they set forth fer ther Zrave, and ther last I seen ov my pard was his wooden overcoat, when they rounded a bend in ther guich. Oh! but I was plum gaboo’d. Butet was no use my strugglin’ against fate; thar I was, fast in a soap box. CHAPTER XVII. MBE ’N’ SAL. My pard was doomed; I felt that in my bones. So distressed I was, that I hardly knowed whur I was at, shur. .I seemed ter be hangin’ on by ther rag- ged edge ov nowhar, and all ther world swimmin’ around me. Ther ground was a-heavin’ and a-roll- in’, ther houses wur a-hobnobbin’ with one another, and ther hills round about "peared to be havin’ a dizzy waltz. I don’t know that I ever had anything to distress me ther way my pard’s fate distressed me then, and me powerless to lift a finger fer him. Thar I had ter lay, , watchin’ his funeral purseshun. And that purseshun, by ther way, was |. a queerious affair. | It wormed and wobbled along wuss’n Wats. snake with a jag on, and I looked ey- ery minnit fer | a to sa my pore all sya hae of ue ad. a MACs b ef 4 ade AS - ; You. Bet t Bob from Cross Crick. a ee a Then ov a suddint et kem to me that | this wasn’t my pard’s purseshun, but an- other one; that/et was made up ov wim- min, and that Sal Cuddyloop was at ther head ov it! Shur enough; fer hadn’t my pard’s fu- neral kurtayzh already gone out ov sight? Fer shur et had, and I rubbed mine eyes. I looked hard. Ther surprise sorter cleared my head a bit, and ther ground seemed to grow a degree more quiet. Thar was no mistakin’ et; thar was Sal Cuddyloop, with all ther rest ov ther Wwimmin’ ov ther camp after her, and they was bearin’ ther late lamented on a shutter. They wur comin’ ther platform. I sorter shrunk up and wished thet I could hide myself in that thar soap box entirely. Then I thought ov my pard again, and that sorter roused me up to ther danger he was in, and my head sorter quieted a bit and I tried ter holler out. in ther direction ov To my delight I found that I had sot" my voice back again some. “Sal!” I holJered. ‘“ Sal Cuddyloop! ” “lll give ye Sal,” she fired back at me, comin’ near. “I don’t want her,” I ’torted, “‘ but I a want my pard, and you must save im.”’ “Your pard bur darn!” she snapped. “Whur is that.thar coffin at, I want ter know? Whur is all ther men critters? Speak up, o- I'll lam ther duff out ov yer!” “That is jist et,’ I murmured. “ You dumped my pard into that thar coffin, and they have sot off to bury him, think- in’ et is yer defunct mayor; and they will have done ther job fer him if ye don’t hustle to ther rescue. Fur the love—” *“ Him in that thar coffing!”’ she yawp- ed at me. “ Him a-disgracin’ the kaskut that was made fer Gunsight John!” ““Anyhow, thar he is,” said I. ther love ov heayen save him!” “T’ll save that coffing!’”’ she hollered. Off she sot, on a run. “Git me out’n this hyer box,” I begged ov ther rest ov ther wimmin. Two ov ’em ondertook ther job, and one pullin’ me and t’other pullin’ ther box, they managed to tear us asunder, ez et wur. As soon as I was on my pins I started after Sal. Ov all ther crooked trails I ever fol- lered in my life, I am free ter say that was ther plum crookedest. I could see Sal all ther time, but I would no sooner take her bearin’s in one direction than I would find her in an- other, and et took me haff ther time to zigzag that thar gulch. I was thankful that et wasn’t any wider. But, mebby my mind was better’n her’n, fer I was most up to her by ther time we reached ther plantin’ ground. Thar was ther citizens ov Sawbuck City, flocked around ther open hole in ther ground, and they wur about ter de- posit my pard in ther earth fer keeps, I tell yer. ‘* Hold on!” yelled Sal. ‘Yas, hold on!” bellered I. ‘‘Yer have got ther wrong man!” said Sal. ‘Et is my pard ye have got in ther box!”’ said I. They stopped, plum dazed with amaze, and looked at us. On we dashed, Sal first and me second, * Fur : - Ml t Wh, ¥ i x + wae n Me ary mag ; - ef 1" ih > - of . a " re Fy he —- 4 * 5 5 a "| ‘ an © ; & Aw “i ah ‘ i . Land ‘ther Reh mp when: we ren ue { hand. ~ ont: - oh ’ ee i." ay A bi ary \,: , Thar was a slight dows downs and Sal was goin’ at secha couldn’t seem ter stop. Ther coffin was jist ahead, I expected sure enough she % trip over et, but she didn’t;P an’ caught hold ov et and wae But, what about me? I realized. all ov a suddenh goin’ down that slope with fv In watchin’ Sal and thin fate, I had fergot all about ther time bein’, and hadn’t! put on ther brakes a bit. i Now that I tried to, et w# couldn’t no more stop than}! and jist ther minnit that S straightened up, I collided wis on. Over that thar coffin shel first, and into ther grave, a her Jead instanter. In we wur, fer a hard fact.® Then mebby thar wasn’t | was no fun fer us. Ef thar had been a thous® in that hole they couldn’t ’a ‘| wussn’ what that old gal did.\ I really thort that ther di! ment had arrove, and that handed over to ther tende ther Old Boy himself, and { rubbin’ me down. | She bit and scratched and yelled in a\way that was am hold, I reckon. Et shur was amazin’ to an } 2 4 She made shreds and rav funeral fixin’s in short orde coat and vest shameful, and’ dered my shirt into ribbons. 1 what wild havoc she would h when she got down to bare hi But, I was saved before et ¢ Friendly hands wur let & and I was lifted out’n that was more dead ’n alive. p Then they helped out Sé wanted to continner ther job gun, but they kept her off’ that I wasn’t in no fit shape round jist then. Sal’s back ha’r was all d was lashin’ et to and fro heffer lashes her tail. *‘T’ll finish him yet!” she ed, shakin’ her fist. “Put et off, I berseech o ter2d. “ Citerzens, my par thar coffin, alive!” That brought ’em back to ov life oncet more, and they) thar coffin forthwith in so haste, and thar was my pard. I was consarned, fearin’ sure enough cead. But, he was only dead i a-sleepin’ oif his booze. They dumped him out, an out ov ther way, and by th rest ov ther wimmin had c Gunsight. He was laid tenderly to long box, ther wimmin havin’ face, after his bitin’ ther manner I have set forth, was secured oncet more. Sal and ther wimmin had men away, and now they low funct into his hole. | Et was sollum, ez sollum af I had crawled over to w was at, and was tryin’ ter rd Et wasn’t no use, though, stone gone, so ter speak, while they wur fillin’ in couldn’t git a peep out ov ther grave had been filled : up, then Sal ima we . ay %° a ak bao fl ; Vie, 5 . comicbooks.com